“Oh, please, how much was that crate of fruit?” Avina asked, opening up her small coin purse, getting ready to dump it all into the merchant’s hands if need be. When he stated the cost of the fruit, she paled and her hands began to shake. “I don’t have that much.” She looked at me in despair. I looked at my coins, and even if I gave her all of my money, we wouldn’t come up with a quarter of the cost that the merchant was demanding.
“Oh, come now,” a cultured voice interjected. Looking up, I was surprised to see Adept Cirrus, his white blonde hair no longer pulled back in a ponytail. He was dressed in non-formal attire, but the attention to detailing on his clothes still drew attention to his prestige and obvious wealth. Not to mention his grace and demeanor called for respect. “Even if you got them fresh off of a caravan yesterday, I know for a fact they wouldn’t be worth that much. And I can tell by the slightly acidic smell, thanks to the horses no doubt for smashing them, that they have gone a bit ripe.”
“Adept Cirrus!” the vendor balked and his wife hastily took the baby into the house. Regaining his composure, the merchant put on his best smile and jumped head first into the negotiations of the price of his fruit, knowing that this is what he did best.
“They were not going bad, I assure you. You must be smelling something else.” His voice had an unmistakable accent now that he was no longer yelling at us.
“Are you calling me a liar, Jeron? I just happened to purchase this fruit yesterday from a vendor across the district and his fruit was beautiful and sweet and cost four coppers less per piece than what you are obviously charging these ladies for your spoiled fruit.” He waved his hand dramatically across the way, drawing attention to his lambskin gloves. He pulled them closer in front of the vendor and looked him in the eye.
“I’m right, aren’t I, Jeron? Because I know you’re lying. Are you forgetting that I’m a Denai and I can tell when you lie?” The vendor’s eyes looked at the ground in shame.
“Now I think you must be mistaken in your calculation of how much your fruit is worth, or how many fruit you had spoiled in total.” Glancing around at the damage and what was salvaged he turned back to the vendor. “I will pay you four silver pieces for the whole lot and we will call it done.”
“I can’t take less than seven, Sir.” He began to draw his eyes to the floor and the tone of his voice turned pleading. “You see, your Honor; I’ve got a family to feed and a young one on the way.” I started at how easily the vendor could change his tune from raging bull to a poor meek vendor.
“Five silvers and I will forget you ever lied to me and I won’t report you to the merchant’s guild.”
“Done!” the vendor’s eyes gleamed greedily. Avina and I started to count out our money when Adept Cirrus held up his hand to stop us. “Don’t waste your valuable, hard-earned money greasing this one’s pocket on what was obviously an accident.” He pulled out his money pouch and withdrew five silver pieces and laid them in the palm of the vendor who quickly took the money and ducked into a back room.
“So young one,” he placed his hand on Avina’s braided head smiling. “I take it we have learned our lesson and will hold off on dancing in the streets for a while?”
“Yes, Adept Cirrus!” she squeaked. “I mean, no, Adept Cirrus, Sir.” She looked upon Cirrus in awe and followed behind him like a puppy who had found a good and kind master. I could understand her eagerness to please, because despite his age he was still pleasing to the eye and generous. He walked with us a ways.
“I’m sorry, Thalia, that we have not gotten anywhere with finding out more about what happened to you.” Cirrus slowed his pace and let Avina walk ahead of him until she stopped at a vendor that was selling pretty glass trinkets. “The Queen has sent guards looking for signs of the Septori but without more information we don’t know where to start looking. They haven't made themselves known before now.”
He seemed generally frustrated at their lack of ability to find the Septori.
“Adept Cirrus, you have been so kind and understanding and if I remember anything else of importance you will be the first to know.” I stopped walking completely and faced him.
Cirrus let out a sigh and looked over my shoulder in defeat. “That’s all I ask, Thalia. All I ask is that I be the first to know.” Looking back at me, he forced a smile onto his face and waved Avina over to us. “Well, don’t let this old man keep you from your shopping; I’m sure you have much more to buy today! And for being good sports and letting an old man enjoy the company of two beautiful women, I feel I must bestow a gift upon you.” He pulled two gold coins out of his pouch and handed one to each of us.
Avina’s green eyes lit up in excitement as she defended Cirrus’ statement. “You’re not that old.”
Cirrus laughed in merriment. “My young lady, I am old enough to be your father.”
“NO! She balked, “my father is really old. He is thirty five winters!”
“Well, I am thirty eight winters. So therefore I am older than your father and must be considered ancient, and by that note I am halfway to the grave already,” he chuckled.
“Avina! Let it go.” I smiled as I saw her brain working on a comeback to bring her out of the hole she kept digging herself into.
“Adept Cirrus, thank you for handling the vendor and paying for the fruit, but I really don’t think we can accept this.” I held the gold coin back to him feeling the weight of it in my hand along with a feeling of guilt.
“Nonsense, Thalia,” he interjected. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when the Adepts first met with you and this is my own way of apologizing that you have to work as a servant at the Citadel. It’s not the future I would have chosen for you.”
He curled my fingers around the gold coin in my hand, the feel of it burning in implications. “It’s guilt money, plain and simple. Mostly because of our lack of results in resolving this horrible conflict with the Septori. We are trying, believe me, we just aren’t getting very far.”
“You know that isn’t necessary.” I held the coin back up to him, feeling that if I took it I would somehow be indebted to him. And I did not want the feeling of being indebted to anyone; it caused a sense of helplessness. Similar to how I feel toward Joss and Darren, as though I owed them for saving my life. Cirrus stepped back away from my hand, tipped his head in farewell and disappeared into the crowd of people.
“I didn’t thank Cirrus for his gift,” Avina said, sticking her small bottom lip out pretending to look hurt. But recovering in record time, she grabbed my arm and pulled me down the street toward more shops. “Come on, I want you to meet Pim.” Racing down the street, she dragged me through numerous twists and turns until we ended up in a dead end alley where we found Pim playing a game with wooden sticks and stones.
Pim turned out to be a young boy of about eight or nine years, wearing brown britches that were too big for him and had been rolled up at the hems in an effort to fit him better. His blue shirt and yellow vest was speckled with colorful patches, and his bare feet were covered in calluses and dirt.
But despite his appearance and obvious lack of wealth it didn’t affect his demeanor; for this young boy’s smile was contagious. Avina handed him a pastry that she had saved from earlier for him and promptly plopped herself down on a wooden crate.
